"Focus, Finley!" Agent Barton's voice rings in my ears.

I'm crouched behind a bunch of crates, my senses high on alert. Since Agent Romanoff and Bucky had their turns with me, it was time for Agent Barton. Let me tell you, he and I aren't exactly happy about being in each other's company, what with how he had attacked me a while ago. He even made that clear from the time I walked into the room. The only reason he and I are in the same room together is because Agent Hill signed him up for training duty. I still don't think he's too happy with her for that. I'm not a big fan of her for it either, but what she says goes.

Agent Barton is mainly training me for stealth, which apparently is a good portion of being a good agent. If you're good at keeping quiet, the enemy will never see you coming. If you're a klutz, being an agent isn't the job for you.

Agent Barton's objective for me: try and sneak up on him. I immediately knew it wasn't fair when he proposed the idea, as I'm sure he was trained to have a sixth sense with people sneaking around to try and get an advantage over him.

This is my practice run with what knowledge I've got. I peek my head up from my hiding spot to see his back is turned to me. I slowly move to my right, still in my crouch, an unloaded weapon in my hands. My heart is galloping in my chest, tricking me into thinking I'm in a real life or death situation. I keep my breathing quiet and carefully take my steps as I dart from one stack of crates to the next.

My back is pressed against the wall, the gun tucked close to my body.

"It's one thing to sneak up on an opponent, it's another to catch them off guard and finish them off," Agent Barton tells me. His voice echoes more, telling me he's moving farther away from me. I scowl. "If they suspect someone's watching, they'll go looking. You've got to outsmart them."

I crawl to my left, peeking around. I'm puzzled, as I don't see Agent Barton anywhere.

I scuttle backwards until I can stand behind the crate stack. I feel something poking me from behind, right in the middle of my back. My grip on the gun tightens.

"Gotcha," Agent Barton snickers.

I snarl low in my throat. "You're just having so much fun with this, aren't you?" I spin around to see Agent Barton lower the arrow he has nocked. I'm seriously wondering if he'll kill me right now. He's got the perfect chance. We're alone, he's armed. I can fight him off, but not for very long.

"I've got to try to have fun," he states. "It's hard to when I'm near you."

I roll my eyes.

"Let's try something different. Close your eyes."

"No way."

"I'm not going to kill you, Finley."

"I don't trust you on that."

"I'd be risking my life if I tried to kill you." He smiles thinly. "There are cameras everywhere in this Helicarrier, and if your sister caught word, she'd come after me." He chuckles dryly. I'm not really appreciating this conversation right now. "Now, close your eyes."

I sigh heavily but obey. I wince when Agent Barton grabs my arm. He gently guides me, though I swear he lets me bump into crates on purpose. If I ever get to train in combat with him, I'll kick his ass for that.

I bump into him, which tells me he's stopped. I open my eyes to find myself in the center of the crate-filled room, with Agent Barton nowhere to be found.

"Come find me," he taunts me.

I exhale deeply and begin my search. Okay, I've got to think, I tell myself. If I find him, I've got to outsmart him. He knows I'm coming to find him, so he's going to try and outsmart me and get an upper hand. I need to beat him.

I venture to the other side of the room, feeling courageous enough to step onto the crates to get a better view. Maybe I'll see a tuft of his hair to give him away. I purse my lips as I survey the area. He's definitely not giving me any easy hints.

A little flustered, I hop down, landing rather gracefully on my feet. With the gun ready to not shoot, I take silent steps around the room. I try to listen for any subtle noise that will give Agent Barton away: his breathing, a squeak of a boot, his body accidentally hitting a crate.

I turn around every corner, looking upwards in case he's perched above. I search stack after stack, but Agent Barton is nowhere to be found. He definitely hasn't left me in this room, I would have heard the door by now. This must be a game to him. He must find it funny that I'm looking for him.

I take a chance, spin around, only to fail. He's not trailing behind me. I growl under my breath. Of course he won't make it that easy for me. Why would I think he's making it easy? I turn back around and freeze only momentarily.

Agent Barton gives me a hint: he's clear in my sights, perched atop a high stack of crates. Forgetting my silence, I charge for his area. He leaps off his perch and disappears behind the stack.

I slow my gait and quiet my feet once I'm close to his position. With caution, I peek around each area, constantly looking over my shoulder in case I miss him. My heart is still running. I'm actually beginning to enjoy this, the thrill of a faux chase. The thrill of hunting someone down, even though it's only practice.

My body is still wired even as I'm at my breaking point. I knew to not expect an easy victory with this, Agent Barton is a master at stealth. I'm almost around another stack of crates when I stop in my tracks.

Without warning, I spin around to finally smirk. After what seemed like an hour, I have Agent Barton. He doesn't arm himself with his bow, he just stares me down.

"Took you long enough," he grunts. "I was about ready to shout 'come get me!'"

"Sorry if I'm not an expert agent," I retort.

"At least you're more perceptive than I expected. Most don't think to look everywhere possible, they usually forget to watch their back. You...you didn't." He nods. "I think you'll do okay if you're ever out in the field."

That's the nicest thing he's said to me.

"By the way, I knew it'd take you a while to find me, so I kind of gave up." He smirks.

I narrow my eyes. "That's not a challenge, that's giving me a victory out of pity."

"Once you start to think smarter, I won't have to do that. It's not going to come to you in a day."

"I never expected it to," I say.

I know Agent Barton and I will spend the least amount of time together training wise. I'm more than okay with that. I'm not exactly fond of spending time with someone who thinks I'm faking my amnesia.

* * *

Dinner is rather strange. I see Vanessa talking with Agent Romanoff, Bucky, and Agent Barton. But the moment I get there, they all fall silent. Like I'm not supposed to hear whatever they're talking about. Like I have no right to know.

Maybe I do, or maybe I don't.

I'm the conversation killer, it seems. Nobody talks once I sit down. We all eat in silence, which kind of bothers me. I keep my eyes away from those at the table, just so I don't end up having any awkward staring contests with people.

The silence doesn't sit well with me for very long.

"All right," I say a bit loudly, "what are you protecting me from? I get here, and everyone stops talking. Is there something that concerns me that nobody has the balls to tell me about?"

Bucky keeps a hand over his mouth, trying to make it not so obvious that he's trying not to snicker. Sure, what I said may be funny, but I'm not in a joking mood right now.

I get no answer, the four of them all look at each other secretively. Even in the looks I'm excluded!

"Vanessa." My voice gets small. "All I want are answers, and nobody seems to want to give them to me. I've been here long enough to get some more information. I can handle whatever you're all hiding. I'm not out to get anybody like some people believe." I shoot a dirty look at Agent Barton. "All I want is to be kept in the loop."

"You will be one day," my sister says tiredly. "Just not now, Dani."

Why am I even bothering?

I don't even give an excuse; I get my tray taken out and leave the cafeteria, fuming slightly.

I barely make it halfway down the hall when I use one of the walls for support. Anger bubbles in me to the point of making me burst into tears. S.H.I.E.L.D. seems to value trust very little here. Even my own sister won't tell me what's going on.

I can't think of anything happy right now, I don't have any positively cheerful memories to help me calm down. My body shakes with quiet sobs. I know it's not just anger taking over, it's the fatigue as well from training. The mixture is a painful combination.

"Danielle?" It's Bucky of all people whose come to find me. I'm not sure if I want him around or not right now with how I'm feeling.

"I don't need apologies," I snap sorely, hugging myself. "It won't make things better."

"I know."

"Then why are you here?"

"I want to make sure you're okay."

I choke out a laugh as I face him. "Do I look like I'm okay, Bucky? Nobody will tell me what the big secret is, and I get this bad feeling that Vanessa isn't telling me everything about my life. I'm mentally exhausted from the endless training sessions, which I know I asked for." I take my glasses off to wipe away stray tears. "I must be way in over my head with this."

"You're not."

I sniff. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm telling you the truth. The first few weeks of training are hard, Danielle, when it comes to any job. But you're doing great from what I've been told and from what I've seen. You shouldn't have a confidence issue over this."

"I don't. I'm just so...I feel so overwhelmed right now."

Bucky comes to me, slips an arm around me. I burrow into him, let myself calm down in his arm—yes, arm, as he's not holding me with his bionic one. I want to ask the reason why, but I don't feel like I have the energy to.

"I think you need to sleep this off," he murmurs. "You're just really tired."

"I guess I shouldn't question that," I mumble.

"No, you shouldn't. Go on, start going to bed a little earlier. Rest."

Though I'm sure he can't see it, a tiny smile creeps onto my face. I don't realize just how much I needed something like this until Bucky came after me to check on me.

I feel like I've just grown a little closer to Bucky Barnes thanks to his embrace.